


Threaded With Silver

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen, Hair Braiding, Mother and Daughter, legendarium ladies april
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3800050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anairë helps Aredhel braid her hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Threaded With Silver

“Amil, no” said Irissë, pushing her mother’s hands away. “I’m old enough to braid my own hair.”

“Alright” said Anairë, backing away from her daughter, and stepping out into the doorway. “But mind you hurry, darling. We are going to be late for the ceremony”

Irissë, clamping her tongue between her teeth in concentration, went silent as she glared into the mirror, braiding her hair behind her head. She scowled at the uneven braid between her fingers, wondering if she had enough pearl pins to disguise the all uneven lumps. She rather doubted it. 

With a sigh of defeat, she sat down on the chair and shook her hair out loose once more. “Amil!” she yelled out into the hallway. 

“Yes?” Anairë’s face appeared at the door after a short while.

“Will you…” Irissë stared at the floor, embarrassed as she pushed aside her pride. “Actually, I do need your help. A bit. Maybe.”

Anairë smiled warmly, coming towards her and . “Oh, sweet. Of course. What would you like?”

“Could you braid my hair up as you used to do with Finno’s, like he has in that portrait from when he was younger? But with silver, instead of gold.” She opened the drawer and took out a roll of silver ribbon. “Please?”

Anairë kissed the top of her head. “Of course, darling. And I think those braids will be good for you, anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because there was a reason I used to braid Findekáno’s hair like that. And it was because he always got himself into the most frightful tangles with it, running and climbing and falling into mud and water.”

Irissë laughed. “We’re going to the twins’ essecarmë, I don’t think it’s going to be a very adventurous affair.”

Anairë grinned at her in the mirror, her hands carding through Irissë’s hair, separating it into sections quickly and expertly. “Irissë, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this family, and you in particular, young lady,” she gave Irissë’s hair a light tug, “it’s to never, ever assume anything will not be a very adventurous affair.”

“Me?” said Irissë, laughing as she feigned affront. 

“Yes, you” said Anairë firmly, picking up some silver-white ribbon and beginning a braid. “Do you think I have forgotten the time you fell out of that tree? Or when you pushed your brother in the fountain?”

“That was accidental!”

“That’s not what Turukáno said. And what about the time you started a cake fight with cousin Findaráto, hmm?”

Irissë snorted with suppressed laughter. “That was an accident too. And I’m um… I’m very sorry.”

“You convinced no one then, either.”

“Ingo gave back as good as he got. It wasn’t as though it was just me pelting  _him_  with cake - ”

Anairë gave a long-suffering sigh, tying off a braid. “My point exactly.”

After a while, she let the last braid fall onto Irissë’s shoulder, before catching up all of the braids and twisting them into a knot high on Irissë’s head, securing it with pins. “There, you’re all done.”

“Thank you Amil” said Irissë, turning her head this way and that. “It looks perfect.”

Anairë chucked her daughter under the chin. “Let’s just try to keep it like that for at least ten minutes, hmm?”

Irissë drew herself up with a solemn look. “I swear I shall try my best.”

“Just one more thing” Irissë said, as Anairë turned to go. Irissë picked up two white flowers from the table, a little wilted since she had picked them out in the forest earlier, but still fresh enough. She tucked on through her hair, and offered the other to her mother, tentatively. 

Anairë smiled, and took the flower, tucking it into her own hair. “Thank you, my darling” she said. “And now, I think, it’s time to go.”


End file.
